I can’t do a blog post today. My little essays are meaningless in the face of such tragedy. I feel despair about the carnage, and about the possibility of it ever getting better. But if we didn’t learn anything from seeing twenty 6-year-olds being slaughtered, if we weren’t moved by a President’s tears, there’s no hope for us.

So I’m spending my time praying and hugging my family. I’m sorry I’m such a downer. I’m sure by next week, like the rest of the nation, I will have forgotten, mostly. And continue whistling past the graveyard, hoping it never happens to us personally.

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I’m Lynne. Welcome to AST.

Welcome to AnyShinyThing, where aging and feminism intersect. I started this blog in 2009 to create a platform for my novels, but it's become a pro-aging obsession. Because a woman's life is too precious to throw away half of it.

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